Postcards
by butterflywhisper
Summary: The CSIs receive postcards from some old friends. Spoilers for 9x10. GSR
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own nor have any rights to CSI.

Spoilers for 9x10 One To Go

"Nick, none of the evidence points to a connection between the two victims," Catherine stated firmly as she walked into her office with Nick close on her heels. She tossed a stack of files onto the desk sighing wearily when she saw all the new mail stacked on her desk.

"I have to disagree, Catherine," Nick argued. "Both women were killed by an unidentified blunt object within a couple of days of each other and antiques from both of her homes suddenly showed up in the same pawn shop clear across town. What are the chances that both women suddenly decided to get rid of antiques that they had for years and at a pawn shop well outside their comfort zone? And why a pawn shop? They would have been more likely to go to an antiques dealer or an auction house."

"Right now, it's all circumstantial. There is no physical evidence to link the two and the owner of the pawn shop was certain it was two different sellers," she replied as she started to flip through the mail.

"Yeah, well, that's what he would say if he was in on the murders."

Coming across a postcard, she suddenly paused, no longer paying any attention to Nick. Picking it out of the stack, she slowly flipped it over.

Seeing first the slow smile spread across her face and then a wet sheen glazing her eyes, he stopped arguing realizing that he had lost her. She looked happy and, well, pleased.

"Something interesting there, boss?"

She didn't say anything for several seconds. Then holding out the postcard, she said, "See for yourself."

His eyebrows scrunched in curiosity. Taking it from her, the first things he saw were the words 'Costa Rica' splashed across the top of a picture of a beautiful forest landscape.

As Catherine had, he flipped it over and immediately smiled upon seeing the familiar script.

_One journey has ended and another has begun. As Martin Buber stated, "All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware." I am just beginning to discover those secrets. The time was right for me to leave. I knew I was leaving the lab in very capable hands. You have all made me very proud over the years and I am glad to call you my friends._

_Grissom_

_P.S. Sara sends her love._

Nick's eyes flew up to meet Catherine's and for several seconds they just grinned at each other like a couple of silly teenagers with the world's biggest secret.

He broke the silence with, "I never expected to hear from him ever again."

"Neither did I," she replied with a slow shake of her head.

He glanced down re-reading the postscript. "He did it," he stated looking up again. "He went after her. I never expected that either."

"I did," Catherine said quietly with the total confidence of knowing someone for nearly two decades.

He held out the postcard to Catherine but instead of taking it, she pointed outside her door.

"Why don't you hang that up on the bulletin board? I think the others would like to see it."

"Yeah. Yeah, they would."

They shared one last grin knowing that their old boss, their mentor, their friend had finally found his happiness at the end of a long journey.

That day, the postcard was taken down dozens of times as it was read and re-read by CSIs and police officers, lab rats and coroners alike and the picture was gazed at longingly, everyone envious of the man who had finally taken a chance on life.

A/N: I tried to pinpoint a specific location in Costa Rica for this little story but the country at the top of Grissom's GPS unit doesn't match up with the coordinates given at the bottom. Those coordinates took me to somewhere in Colombia.


	2. Chapter 2

Catherine flipped through the assignment sheets in her hand as she sauntered down the hallway. It was nights like these when she really missed Gil and even Sara a bit yet. Even with the two new additions to the team, they just weren't staffed up the way they used to be. They were still one body short and Langston and Riley were nowhere on par with Gil and Sara. Riley was good but she wasn't nearly as efficient or intuitive as Sara had been and even though he looked to have a promising future as a CSI, Langston still wasn't even qualified to work a scene alone. Every scene he worked, she had to have someone babysit him which was almost like taking another CSI out of commission.

She knew when Gil had left that she would miss him terribly and she did. What she had never admitted is how much she missed Sara after she left. Although they had been at odds more often than not, she missed the younger woman's dedication and even her spunkiness.

Pausing in the doorway of the conference room, she just watched the team – her team – for a few moments. She still couldn't quite get over it that this was her team. She watched them joking and kidding around. It was sort of reminiscent of how things were a few years ago before kidnappings and shootings, serial killers and teenage gangs and even death had brought a black cloud of despair into their lives.

A wistful smile touched her lips as the memories flooded her of the many evenings they would all be gathered around that same conference table waiting for Grissom to come and give them their assignments. How Greg would pant after Sara like a besotted little puppy while Nick and Warrick would rib him. How Nick and Warrick would bet on everything from sports to cases to what color socks Greg would be wearing that day.

Now she was the one standing in the doorway getting ready to hand out assignments. Now she was the one everyone turned to when the chips were down. Sometimes she longed for those days when she could turn to Gil when she was knee-deep in trouble and he would smooth everything over.

From the bottom of the stack, she pulled out a stiff piece of cardboard with a foreign postmark and just stared at the handwriting. Yeah, she definitely missed them. This new team was forming a bond but she knew it would never be the same again. There had just been something special about the six of them – Gil, Warrick, Nick, Greg, Sara, herself – that could never be recaptured. Not in a million years.

Nick eventually noticed her standing there looking a little wistful.

"Hey, Catherine!" he greeted her, concern tingeing his voice.

She gave him a small, pensive smile.

"Yo, boss lady," Greg cried out in a way reminiscent of his old lab rat days.

She couldn't help but chuckle at his silliness.

"Alright, calm down, Greg," she chided with a gentle smirk. "OK, gang, we have a long, and I do mean long, night ahead of us."

A chorus of groans could be heard all around the table.

"I know, I know. We're all getting tired of slammed. But, first, something to cheer us up," she said as waved the postcard in the air. Looking at Ray and Riley, she realized that this particular piece of mail wouldn't mean much of anything to them, so she amended her statement with, "Well, it'll at least cheer up Nick and Greg."

"What is it?" Nick questioned, thoroughly intrigued now.

Holding up the postcard with the picture facing Nick and Greg, she said, "Take a guess".

Greg studied the card while Nick read aloud the writing splashed across the front, "Corcovado National Park."

"That's one bad-ass looking frog," Greg commented about the small red and green creature captured in the picture.

Bringing the card up close to her nose as she had forgotten her reading glasses back in her office, Catherine read off the back, "Says here it's a poisonous dart frog." She paused a moment and when they still hadn't taken a guess at who the postcard was from, she prompted them. "Well, come on, boys. Who's it from?"

Suddenly a light bulb went off and Nick exclaimed, "Grissom!"

"Close but no cigar. Want to take another guess? I'll even give you a clue. Tall, lanky, brunette …."

"Sara!" Greg screeched. Jumping up, he snatched the postcard from Catherine's grasp. "Oh, my God, Sara!"

"Sara?" Riley repeated scrunching her face in confusion.

"She used to work here before you started," Catherine explained off-handedly as she watched Nick and Greg fight over the piece of cardstock.

Finally, Nick grabbed it out of Greg's hand and held it up high while fending Greg off with his other arm.

"Alright, cool your jets, boys," Catherine reprimanded before muttering under her breath, "I swear I'm more of a den mother than a supervisor."

"Well, if your going to be that way, the least you can do is tell us what she has to say," Greg pouted.

"Down boy," Nick replied distractedly as his eyes skimmed the familiar scrawl. "I've gotta decipher this before I can even tell you what it says." He chuckled. "Never thought I would miss this chicken scratch."

"Come on," Greg continued to whine.

"Alright, alright. She wrote,

'_Hey gang,_

_It's hard to believe it's been almost 3 three months since Gil joined me here in Costa Rica. I just wanted to let you know that we're doing fine. We're spending most of our time on a research project involving the habitat and behavior of the poisonous dart frog and the rest is spent exploring this fascinating country. The scenery here is absolutely gorgeous. Gil likes to grumble about the humidity but I just remind him that without it, there wouldn't be such a vast diversity in wildlife and vegetation and even insects. That usually shuts him up. If you ever get the chance, spend some time down here. You won't be disappointed. I hope everything is going well back in Vegas. My only regret is that I don't get to see and talk to you guys. Stay safe and take care._

_Sara'"_

A silence hung in the air for a few seconds after Nick finished reading.

"Gil. As in Gil Grissom?" Ray inquired looking back and forth between Nick and Catherine.

"The one and the same," Catherine confirmed.

"Sara's his wife then," Riley stated. "I didn't even know he was married."

"She's not," Nick started explaining. "She's his …. Uh … girlfriend." He shook his head and groaned, "I still can't get used to calling those two a couple."

"And she used to work here?" Riley asked.

"She sure did," Greg quipped. "She was f-ine. One hot babe."

"Greg, man," Nick addressed him as he punched him in the shoulder. "You've gotta get over her. She's Grissom's woman."

"So what did she do? Which shift did she work?" Riley asked ever the consummate investigator. She knew this Sara couldn't have worked the nightshift. That was against policy. She remembered reading that in the employee manual. No two people on the same forensics team could be involved in a romantic relationship. She was sure it was even more highly discouraged for a supervisor and a subordinate to be involved.

"She was on our team. A CSI like all of us," Catherine answered. "Well, at the end, she was on swing shift but that was only for a couple months."

"Oh, so they must've got together after she changed shifts."

"Uh, actually, that's why she had to change shifts. The higher ups found out those two were in a relationship and it was either one of them change shifts or get fired."

Riley eyes went wide trying to reconcile the gruff supervisor she had known for a few short weeks with someone who'd actually have an affair with a subordinate. "I just …." She slowly shoke her head as a nervous little laugh escaped her. "I never would've pictured him as one to break the rules. He just seemed so….stuffy."

The old team members had a good chuckle.

"Well, we all were a bit shocked when we found out," Nick stated.

"Speak for yourself," Greg groused. "I knew about those two long before then."

"And I still don't believe that you knew anything, Greggo. I think you just like to think you knew."

"Huh! I'll have you know …."

"Enough!" Catherine exclaimed.

"That just….blows my image of him," Riley mumbled. Intrigued by the history of this team that she was now a part of, she continued asking questions. "How long were they having an affair before they were found out?"

"No one really knows," Catherine answered. "They never said."

"We're talking here about the two most private people you will ever meet," Nick jumped in. "We still don't even know exactly how they ever met or how long they knew each other before Grissom brought her in. We have only a few sketchy details."

"Brought her in? You mean they were like doing the horizontal mambo before she even started working here?" Riley was even more astonished.

"No. Well, at least I don't think so," Nick replied looking around at Catherine and Greg for confirmation of his statement. "They claimed they were just friends back then."

"Grissom brought Sara in to conduct an internal investigation and since there was an opening, she stayed on permanently," Catherine explained.

"So he hires a colleague of his …" Riley begins only to be cut-off by Nick.

"Actually, student."

"Huh?"

"She had originally been a student of his," Nick said. At Riley's questioning look, he stated, "Sara's my age."

Riley quirked an eyebrow as she stared at Nick. "So, he a hires a young female student to come in and conduct an investigation, they claim to be friends and then end up having an affair?"

"Oh, honey," Catherine chuckled. "That barely skims the surface. One day they'd be chummy and acting like the best of friends. The next, they could barely tolerate each other. We are talking about the rockiest, stormiest, most secretive relationship you have ever seen and that's just the parts we know about. Who knows what all went on behind closed doors with those two."

"This is beginning to sound like a soap opera."

Catherine, Nick and Greg just looked at each other then burst out laughing. Gil Grissom, Sara Sidle and soap operas. Certainly not a combination of words they ever thought they would ever hear strung together yet amazingly descriptive.

Wiping away the tears from her eyes, Catherine glanced at her watch. "Oh, hey, guys, we really need to get to work. Like I said, we've got a busy night. But tell you what, why don't we meet for breakfast after shift?" Touching Riley lightly on the shoulder, she said, "We can give you the whole rundown on the Grissom-Sara drama then."

TBC

* * *

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

A/N: Well, I certainly never intended to take this long to get the second chapter up. But quite frankly, I find the characters of Riley and Langston to be quite …. uninspiring. Yet, I wanted to bring those two into this chapter to get them caught up to the GSR relationship in case I need to use them in future chapters. I hope you found this chapter satisfactory. Please R&R. I would appreciate it so much.

_Excuse me for a moment while I step onto my soapbox..... _I am so disappointed with how CSI has been going since Grissom left. I think they had a chance to still have a really great show if they would've focused on the original team members and brought Riley and Langston into the picture slowly. Instead, they've turned it into the Ray Langston show. I was relieved to find out I wasn't the only one to feel that way when I checked out the CBS forums. If you feel that CSI is headed the wrong direction, there is a petition started to "Give CSI Stars the Respect Earned". It can be found at www(dot)petitiononline(dot)com/csis9ch/petition(dot)html. I don't suppose it will help much considering they're giving LF $14 million but at least TPTB will know that not everyone appreciates what they are doing to our favorite show. Thanks if you've stuck around long enough to listen to my rant and rave.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters. They're all property of Alliance Atlantis, CBS Paramount and Anthony Zuiker.

Thanks for all the reviews. I certainly got way more feedback than I expected on my last author's note about the direction of the show. It was great to hear from everyone and to know that I'm not alone.

JUST SAY 'NO' TO PLAGIARISM!

* * *

Sitting on the bench in front of his locker, Greg was jamming out to the latest tunes on his iPod while playing a game on his cell phone when Nick strolled into the locker room whistling a tune.

"Yo, Greg," Nick greeted him. "How was your night off?" he asked as he opened his locker.

Not getting any response, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Greg just grinning away and bobbing his head. Turning back to his locker, Nick just shook his head. Greg looked like some crazed bobble head although it was good to see Greg's spirits up lately, almost reminiscent of his old lab rat days.

Grabbing his hiking boots from the bottom of his locker, he plopped down on the bench beside Greg startling the younger CSI.

With a sheepish grin, Greg reached up and yanked his ear buds out before apologizing, "Oh, hey, Nick. Didn't see you come in."

"I noticed," Nick replied as he toed his loafers off. "So what'd you do on your night off?"

"Nothing special. Grabbed a bite. Hung out at Shun for a while. Pretty much it," Greg reported with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders.

"Shun," Nick repeated as he tried to associate the name with the place. "Isn't that the new techno dance club out on the south end of the Strip?"

"That'd be the one. Ever been?"

"Nah. I like to still be able to hear myself think at the end of the night." He picked up his loafers and tossed them back into his locker. Something about the name 'Shun' was bugging him though, like he should know that place. Suddenly, it dawned on him. "Say, isn't that where you've been hanging out for your last several nights off?"

Greg just gave him a big grin before turning his attention back to his cell phone game.

Nick had his suspicions and they all had to do with the opposite sex. Greg only grinned like that when a woman was involved. He'd seen plenty of it when Sara had been around.

"Alright, Greggo. Spill it."

"Spill what?" asked Greg with a barely suppressed chuckle.

"What's her name, how old is she and what's she look like?"

Greg just shook his head trying to straighten his lips but they refused to cooperate. So he buried his face back in his game.

"You know I'll get it out of you eventually," Nick threatened as he shoved a foot into a hiking boot.

Greg's grin only broadened.

"Come on, Greg," Nick cajoled. "Didn't I tell you about my date with that flight attendant the other day?"

"Well," Greg drawled, "let's just say they have some fi-i-ne DJs there."

"Oh, really?" Nick's eyebrow rose in speculation.

Glancing around to check that they were alone, Greg leaned in towards Nick. He whispered conspiratorially, "Her stage name is Mickey. Her real name is Tamara. She lets me call her Tammie. She doesn't let just anyone do that. Long, wavy brown hair. Green eyes. About 5'8"." As he ran his hands through the air in an hourglass shape, he finished with, "A fine, fine figure." Straightening back up, he shrugged nonchalantly. "Anyways, she DJs Monday, Tuesday and Thursday nights and the occasional Saturday evening."

Standing up, he hooked his cell phone back onto his belt then put his iPod in his locker and slammed it shut. "Well, guess I better find Catherine and get my assignment for the evening." Finally noticing that Nick was lacing up his hiking boots, he asked him, "What are you up to?"

"DB out at Red Rock. I'm with Langston tonight," Nick replied. "Think you've got a leaper with Riley."

"Alright," Greg said heading for the door.

"Oh, hey, Greg," Nick called out just before Greg disappeared through the door.

"Yeah?"

"You'll want to check out the bulletin board. We got another postcard from Sara yesterday."

"Cool," he exclaimed and left making that his top priority. After all, a dead leaper could always wait. News from Sara couldn't.

Coming to a halt in front of the employee announcement bulletin board, he quickly scanned it for the latest addition. There, in the upper left hand corner was an area that was slowly becoming dedicated to the postcards of the lab's two former workaholics. Joining the picture of the rainforest and the poisonous dart frog was a picture of a sea turtle resting on a black-colored boulder. The bold block letters along the bottom proclaimed 'Galapagos Islands.'

"Hmm, Galapagos," he muttered to himself. "Wonder what happened to Costa Rica?"

Taking the postcard down, he flipped the card over and read.

_Hello once again from south of the equator although from a different location this time. We left the research station in Costa Rica mid-August just in time to spend Gil's birthday in Buenos Aires. We're now spending a couple weeks in Puerto Ayora in the Galapagos. It really is a fascinating place – so many unique and colorful creatures that are found nowhere else in the world. Next, we're off to China. An opportunity came up for Gil to study some Chinese beetle that is having an effect on the pandas' food sources. Him and his bugs! I haven't decided yet what I'll be doing. There is an organization dedicated to rescuing pandas that has set up shop at the same research station so I might check that out. Check your e-mail. Both of us have been trying to catch up and sending pics. I'm out of space so I'll write later from China. Miss you all. Sara_

A wistful sigh escaped Greg's lips. "Miss you, too, Sara," he whispered forlornly.

"That sounded a little sad."

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Riley standing there with her kit in one hand and an assignment slip in the other.

"Just reading Sara's latest postcard."

Tilting her head to the side, she studied him for a moment before saying, "You really miss her."

"Yeah, yeah, I do." He stood there silently just staring at Sara's familiar scrawl. It had been almost a year since he had last seen her and even longer since he worked with her. Still there was a hollow ache in his heart every time he realized that she really wasn't in Vegas anymore.

He sighed deeply before explaining, "She was – is – one of my closest friends as well as my mentor. Well, both she and Grissom were my mentors. Anyways, after I failed my first proficiency test, she kind of took me under her wing and really helped me out. Not that we weren't friends before. But that was about the time that Ecklie broke the team up. Since there was only Grissom, Sara, Sophia and I on our team anymore, Sara and I worked together a lot. Sara and Sophia didn't really get along very well, so Grissom didn't have them work together too often."

Riley studied him a little longer when suddenly her eyes widened in realization. "You were crushing on her."

"What?!" Greg's head jerked up in surprise before he quickly tried to cover his surprise by tacking the postcard back up on the board.

"You were crushing on Sara," Riley teased.

"Was not!" he protested. Turning around, he grabbed the assignment slip out of Riley's hand. "I heard we're together tonight."

"We are and don't change the subject."

"I'm not. There's nothing to talk about. So let's go."

He started walking down the hall with Riley on his heels.

"You were," she stated.

"What?" He scowled starting to get a little annoyed.

"Crushing on her. You were."

"Was not."

"Were, too."

"Was not."

"Were, too."

Seeing he wasn't getting anywhere, he finally conceded with "Well, maybe, but just a little." He pinched his thumb and forefinger together leaving just a little space between them to indicate just how much.

Riley rolled her eyes but Greg just continued, "But that was a long time ago. Now come on. A dead body isn't going to process itself."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters. They're all property of Alliance Atlantis, CBS Paramount and Anthony Zuiker.

A/N: Well, I certainly hadn't expected to take this long to get this chapter posted especially since I started working on it almost immediately after posting the last chapter. I think this is about the tenth version already. Surprisingly, the plot never changed. I just couldn't get the character interaction to feel right. Then suddenly today, it all came together! Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"Yes, we finally got him! We got the bastard!" Nick exclaimed as he reviewed the DNA results. He turned on his heel and started out of the DNA lab. "Thanks, Wendy," he said as he waved his files and papers in farewell.

"Glad to be of service," Wendy replied as she pushed her rolling stool away from the table. Breathing deeply, she stretched her arms overhead and arched her back before rolling her head to work out the kinks in her neck. It had been a long night sorting through all of the DNA samples that Nick had dropped on her.

Just then, her stomach growled loudly. She knew she had missed her first coffee break of the night but when she glanced at her watch, she was surprised to realize that she had also missed her lunch break.

She was walking down the hall towards the break room and the tuna salad sandwich that was calling her name from the fridge when she heard boisterous laughter coming from the toxicology lab. Finding it curious as Henry was a rather quiet guy and his lab was usually the quietest of them all – never any music or other distractions – she glanced around to notice that her fellow lab rats were all gathered there.

Even Hodges.

Now that was extremely odd. If Hodges wanted to hold court, he usually did so in his own lab. Knowing Hodges – well, men in general, really – she was sure it was some throwback to their caveman days and establishing their territory. Well, if Hodges was involved, she was sure that some kind of scheme or another was being cooked up and she had better step in before he got everyone fired. Even if everything was on the up and up, she couldn't pass up the chance to needle Hodges. Smirking, she reminded herself to be nice. She knew Hodges had a crush on her and truth be told, he could be cute in an annoying kind of way. But that was no excuse to take advantage of the situation.

Stepping into toxicology, she called out cheerily, "Hey, what's up?" as she came to stand beside Hodges.

Mandy, who had been leaning over the lab table, straightened up. "Hey, Wendy. We were just talking about traveling. You know, like if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? Myself…..I'd like to go someplace exotic where I could lay on the beach just soaking up the sun, like Tahiti or Morocco."

"Or Texas," Bobby teased as he elbowed her.

Mandy blushed. "Stop it!" she protested as she slapped Bobby on the shoulder.

Everyone chuckled except Wendy who had the feeling there was an inside joke she was missing.

"Texas?" Wendy inquired quizzically.

Archie answered, "Yeah. Or at least Western Texas where a certain someone we all knew grew up and I'm not talking about Bobby either."

"Nope," Bobby interjected. "I'm from Eastern Texas," he stated proudly.

Wendy's eyebrows scrunched momentarily as she tried to figure out Archie's riddle. As the obvious answer came to her, her eyes grew round. "Oooooh." She had always wondered if Mandy had a crush on Nick and if her bright red cheeks were anything to go by, she certainly did.

"Well, they do know how to grow men in Texas," Mandy cheekily commented.

Bobby's chest puffed up with pride. "Yep, they certainly do."

Mandy whacked Bobby hard in the stomach and he deflated like a popped balloon. "Well, at least I don't want to go to Africa and shoot poor, defenseless animals like you!"

Bringing his hands up holding an imaginary rifle and peering through its imaginary sight, Bobby said, "Yep, I'm going to hunt down Simba."

"That poor, little lion cub from 'The Lion King'? That's just awful," Mandy whined.

Bobby waved his 'rifle' back and forth then suddenly shouted "Bang!" as he pulled on the 'trigger'.

The men just laughed when Mandy and Wendy both jumped.

As the laughter died down, Wendy asked, "So what brought this all on? This discussion about where'd you like to travel?"

"We got another postcard from Sara," Mandy replied. Picking it up from the table, she handed it over.

Taking it, Wendy was confused when she saw "The Great Barrier Reef" scrawled over the top of an underwater picture of reefs and colorful tropical fish.

"Great Barrier Reef? That's near Australia. I thought Sara said in her last postcard they were headed to China."

Henry answered, "They were. They still are. They just made a pit stop in Australia." Pointing to the postcard in her hand, he instructed, "Read it. It explains everything."

As she flipped the postcard over to begin reading, she heard Mandy wistfully murmur, "That is just so romantic. To get whisked away somewhere exotic for your birthday. Who knew Grissom could be so romantic."

The guffaws and groans of the men became background noise as she began reading.

_Greetings from sunny Australia!_

_As you can probably tell, we're not in China, at least not yet. When we landed in Sydney, I knew that we were spending a night's layover. What I hadn't expected was that Gil had arranged for us to spend almost three full weeks in Australia before continuing on to China. He says it's my birthday present but he's having just as much fun as me. We've been surfing at Bells Beach, snorkeling along the Great Barrier Reef and even attended a performance at the famous Sydney Opera House. (I'll never understand his love of opera but I indulged him anyways.) Tomorrow, we're flying into the Outback for a few days before returning to Sydney to meet our flight to Bangkok. By the time you get this, we should already be there. Take care, be safe. - Sara_

As Wendy laid the postcard aside, she was drawn back into the continuing conversation as Archie was saying "… so I'm sure they had a lot of good surfing at Bells Beach. It's a pretty famous international surf spot but if you're heading to Australia just to surf then the Gold Coast is where you wanna be. "

"Is that where you'd go if you could, Archie? The Gold Coast?" Mandy asked.

"I might," he replied. "But the gnarliest curls are at places like Teahupoo in the Tahitian islands or the Banzai Pipeline on the North Shore of Oahu."

"The Pipeline. Isn't that like a really dangerous place? " Henry asked.

"Yeah. You should see some of those crazy dudes. Man, that must be a thrill," Archie enthused. "That would be the life. Hanging around the beach. Catching some rays. Doing a little surfing. Just waiting to catch the perfect wave."

"You'd actually risk your life for a three-minute thrill ride?" Hodges questioned snootily.

Wendy was not at all surprised by Hodges' question. What had surprised her was that he had been able to keep his opinion to himself for so long.

"Well, if I was good enough to surf any of those places, I sure would love to get the chance. But I'm just not that good. The California beaches are more my speed." Archie went quiet for a few seconds seeming to be lost deep in thought. "You know, there are a couple really good surfing spots on the Costa Rican coastline. There's Tamarindo. That's supposed to be a pretty good beginner's spot. Then a little south of there is Playa Negra." Glancing around the circle of lab techs, he pondered, "Huh. Wonder if they did any surfing while they were down there."

Hodges sarcastically muttered, "Oh, puh-lease," under his breath as he rolled his eyes.

Annoyed, Wendy turned towards him with a disgusted look and arms folded tight across her chest. "What is your problem?!"

For a moment, Hodges was startled by her attack. When he saw the same looks of disgust and irritation on everyone else's faces, he went on the defensive.

Looking down his nose at Wendy, he stated snootily, "You seriously cannot believe that Grissom is going to be satisfied very long with globe-trotting, surfing and counting monkeys in the rainforest, can you? Men of Grissom's and my intellectual caliber need stimulation. We need complex problems to challenge our minds and to have someone with whom we can discuss a wide variety of highly complex issues at a very scholarly level, not in layman's terms."

"Oh. My. God," Wendy drawled disbelievingly. "Do you hear yourself?"

"Why, yes, I do."

"So you seriously are saying that Sara isn't smart enough to keep Grissom interested? That she's not his intellectual equal?"

"I know this may be hard to hear, Wendy, but few people are of quite the same ….. shall we say, aptitude….as Grissom and I."

"You are an ass!" she hissed. Looking at the others, she asked them "Can you believe him?" as she held out her hand indicating Hodges.

Archie, having been on the receiving end of one of Wendy's tirades in the past, recognized all the signs. Leaning towards Hodges, he whispered, "You are so in for it now." Then he leaned back in his chair and smirked as he folded his arms across his chest preparing himself for an interesting show.

"You think that being in a relationship is only about being intellectually equal?" Wendy screeched. " Is that what you think? Well let me tell you buddy, it's not!"

Hodges stepped back slightly from the full force of Wendy's outburst but she wasn't letting him off the hook that easily. She matched him shuffle for shuffle as she jabbed her finger in his chest.

"It's about being there for each other through the good times and the bad. It's about having someone to count on when everyone else disappears and about having a shoulder to cry on when times get tough. It's about having someone to laugh with and share memories with. It's about trust and knowing that no matter how badly you screw up, someone is still going to love you. And it's about sacrifice, too."

Slowly, her rant was winding down and her voice slipped into a wistful, sad cadence.

"It's doing things for that other person that you would never consider doing otherwise in a million years. And you know what? That's exactly what Grissom and Sara have. You think it was easy for them to keep their relationship a secret around here? I'm sure it was hard, really, really hard, but they did it because they wanted to be together. You think it was easy for Sara when Grissom left on his sabbatical? And I cannot even begin to imagine what Grissom must have gone through when Sara left so unexpectedly!"

Wendy paused a moment as her voice started choking up. The room was so quiet that only the distant ring of the phone at the reception desk dared disturb it. "They both sacrificed a lot just to be together so why can't you just be happy for them?"

"I…uh…," Hodges stuttered as he shuffled restlessly. "I guess I never thought of it that way."

"Yeah, David, that's the problem. You don't think. You're smart. I'll give you that. But you just don't think."

Turning on her heel, she started to leave but just as reached the doorway, she stopped and looked back. She had a bit more to say. A few more home truths for Hodges.

"By the way, if you think Sara isn't Grissom's intellectual equal, you are dead wrong. Did you know that she was accepted to Harvard when she was only sixteen and that she started only a couple weeks before her seventeenth birthday?"

Hodges slowly shook his head.

"Or how about the fact that she had completed her undergraduate degree and was already working on her Master's when she was only nineteen or that she had already been accepted to the physics doctoral program at Berkeley when she decided to work for the San Francisco Crime Lab instead?"

Once again, Hodges shook his head.

"I had only been working at the Frisco lab a couple months when Sara left to come here. I didn't know her at the time but I still remember how they tried everything to get her to stay. They offered her promotions and raises and all kinds of incentives because they didn't want her to leave. Even though she was only a Level Two, she was one of their best investigators."

She paused a moment as she watched Hodges sheepishly hang his head a little.

"So I think it's a pretty safe bet to say she's Grissom's intellectual equal. She definitely would be _your_ equal. No, I take that back. She's probably your superior. You know, if you kissed a little less ass around here and really got to know people, you'd first find out how awesome and amazing all your colleagues are."

With that verbal smack down, she turned and left the toxicology lab and her stunned co-workers behind.

Once she had turned a corner down the hallway and disappeared from sight, Hodges felt all eyes turn on him with looks ranging from Bobby's pity and Henry's disgust to Archie's smirk and Mandy's misty eyes.

Feeling like the ass that Wendy had so loudly proclaimed him to be, he tried to speak, to possibly explain himself but all that came out was a few stuttered syllables.

He quickly fled Henry's lab and rather than risk running into Wendy in her lab on the way to his own Trace lab, he headed to the break room instead. With his head down upon entering the room, he was already several paces in before he realized that Wendy was also there getting her lunch out of the fridge.

For a long, uncomfortable moment, the two just stared at each other.

He solemnly greeted her with, "Oh, huh, hey, Wendy."

"David," she stated flatly before she turned her back on him and stepped up to the sink to rinse off her apple.

Hodges shifted nervously knowing that he had to say something – apologize – if he ever hoped to have Wendy speak to him again much less, well, consider him as a potential romantic companion.

"I..uh…um…I guess I don't know what to say, uh, to all that."

She sarcastically cracked, "Well, that's a first!"

"You're probably right. I guess I don't think sometimes."

Stunned, Wendy turned back towards him.

Hodges shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of Wendy's lips before she turned her attention back to washing her apple. "There may be some hope for you yet, Hodges."

"Really?"

She quietly chuckled at the way Hodges' tone lifted up into a squeak at the end.

"Yeah, there just might be."

She shut the water off, wiped her apple down and then turned around leaning her back against the edge of the counter. "You just need to learn that the whole world doesn't revolve around you. Sometimes, you need to think about others and their feelings."

"Yeah, ok, I can do that," he stated as he stared off into space almost like he was planning everything in his mind.

She shook her head doubtfully. She was positive that Hodges thought he could do it but she would have to see it first to believe it.

She grabbed her sandwich off the counter and started crossing the room. "I think I'm going to go eat my lunch outside."

As she was just about to pass him, she paused.

"David?"

"Hmm," he replied as he met her gaze.

"I wouldn't mind someone sacrificing a Saturday evening and a little money to take me out for a nice dinner." She smiled coyly as she arched an eyebrow then walked away leaving a stunned Hodges behind.

"Wendy, do you mean…." He turned around to discover he was talking to an empty room. Deciding that she had truly meant it as an invitation for him to ask her out, he cockily swaggered from the break room as he congratulated himself.

"Way to go, Hodges, way to go."

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TBC

I love to hear what everyone thinks so reviews are really, really, really welcomed!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters. They're all property of Alliance Atlantis, CBS Paramount and Anthony Zuiker.

A/N: I could give a hundred excuses about why it took so long to post this chapter especially since it was written almost 2 months ago, but I'm sure you probably just want to get onto the story. So here you go….the fifth postcard from our favorite couple.

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There it hung in the northern sky like it had for millions of years in the past and probably would for another million or so years. The bright lights of the Vegas Strip several blocks away washed it out but could never completely obliterate the starlight that had traveled trillions of miles through vast, cold space. The North Star. Always there. Never changing.

Unlike everything else around him.

Some days he felt like that star up there in the sky. All around him, the world was changing. People were changing, moving on with their lives. Yet, he was still the same. It was an odd juxtaposition that he found himself in. On one hand, he still felt much like that know-it-all greenhorn from Texas who had pulled into Vegas in his beat-up old Ford Ranger over a decade ago – still single, still unsettled, still leading a bachelor's life. But on the other hand, he felt old beyond his nearly forty years on this planet – weary, a little distrustful, perhaps a little wiser but most definitely older.

Maybe it was time to move on. Others had. Hell, even Grissom had. The one person who had seemed more constant and more stationary than the damn stars in the sky had moved on.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he move on? Why couldn't he find peace? Or at least find that one woman who could make it all seem worthwhile?

In the end, even Sara and Grissom had made it work. Sure, they had to first quit their jobs, give up their careers and leave Vegas before they could make it work. But eventually they had and that was what is important. They took the risks and ultimately reaped the benefits.

Maybe that was his problem. Maybe it was time to just say to hell with it all, pull up stakes and move on. He doubted that he was making much of a difference here anyways. People were still murdering, raping and thieving, lying, cheating and stealing. In the end, he couldn't even save his best friend, his best bud, from the very people who were supposed to make the world a safer place.

His gaze shifted from the stars to the moon that was slowly rising above the Vegas skyline and his eyes glazed over. He couldn't look at the moon anymore. Not without thinking of Grissom. It would always be a reminder of the last case they had worked together and everything that had led up to the fateful moment.

He missed those days. He missed having Grissom there in the lab mentoring and guiding him and Sara teasing him and laughing with him and the subtle competition that he had always had with her to be Grissom's favorite.

And Warrick. Over a year had already passed since Warrick….died – it was still so hard to say that word – yet every day he found himself wanting to talk to his best friend. To share some antidote or to run grab an In-N-Out burger together on their lunch break. To talk about the latest football scores and watch the Sunday afternoon games at one of their apartments.

Nick didn't know what to do anymore. This melancholy that had been hanging over him these last few weeks was affecting his whole outlook on life. Yet, he couldn't shake it. All around him life was changing. The moon, the stars, Vegas, his job – that was all the same. But it seemed like everyone in his life had moved on or was in a state of transition. It even looked like Greg had finally found someone. It seemed like only he was remaining the same….always the same.

For just one short moment, he wished everything would quit changing. Or better yet, go back to the way things were before Grissom left, before Warrick died, before Sara took off, before she was kidnapped, before Brass was shot and even before Walter Gordon changed his life forever by sticking him in that glass coffin. If he had to pinpoint a single moment in time when everything had started changing, it would be that precise instance when he had gained consciousness in that damn glass coffin. That's when everything changed. That's when his innocence was well and truly lost. With everything he witnessed in his job, who would have thought he could get anymore jaded. He was wrong. So very, very wrong. And Sara's kidnapping and Warrick's murder only proved how wrong he could be.

His gaze shifted from the night sky to the oversized postcard tightly clenched in his hand as he sat there on the curb in the back lot behind the lab – the same lot where Grissom and Sara had stayed up all night with a decaying pig; the same one where Sara and Warrick had tried to prove – or disprove – spontaneous human combustibility. As he stared at the glossy photo of a panda sitting in a tree chewing on a stalk of bamboo, he realized with a pang of regret that his grip had creased the smooth, shiny surface.

After a long solemn moment, he flipped it over and read for the countless time the familiar script of his former boss and mentor.

_We arrived at the Wolong National Nature Reserve in southern China at the end of September. Sara has been keeping busy with the giant panda rescue organization established here at the reserve. Mere hours after our arrival, two orphaned cubs were brought into camp and Sara has become their primary caretaker. Because Nicky and Greggo (yes, she named them after Nick and Greg) need to feed every few hours, she has been keeping busy and grabbing sleep when she can. Meanwhile, I have begun my research with the Chlorophorus annularis or Bamboo Longhorned Beetle. A couple young entomology students from Peking University have been assisting. We may have discovered a reproductive mutation which could explain why the beetle population has exploded exponentially thus devastating the bamboo and impacting the giant pandas' primary food source. We are enjoying our time in research and conservation but often find our thoughts and our conversations turning to Vegas and the friends we have left behind. As Thoreau once stated, "Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes." Perhaps one day we will all get together again and the world will seem a little smaller for a while._

_Grissom_

In deep contemplation, Nick rubbed his thumb over the signature. He and Sara had exchanged a number of e-mails since Grissom had joined her in Costa Rica and had even talked on the phone a couple times. But this postcard – actually, all of the postcards they had sent – were different. They were more personal. They represented a physical connection to two people who had become such a huge part of his life. They were his extended family and being able to touch something that they had touched made them seem a little closer than halfway around the world. And by the sounds of it, he wasn't the only one missing their extended family.

He turned his gaze skywards once again. He really was hating change, especially the kinds of changes that took his friends and family away from him.

The metallic snick of a lock releasing and the squeak of the fire door swinging open interrupted the quiet solitude of the back parking lot.

He didn't bother acknowledging whoever it was that had come outside. If he kept quiet and still, perhaps they wouldn't notice him and would leave without bothering him.

As Catherine stood in the eerie orange halo cast by the security light hanging over the door, she glanced around searching for Nick.

Spotting him sitting on the curb in the shadows, she called out, "Hey, Nick, we've got another 419! Can you take it?"

When he didn't respond, she took note of his slumped shoulders and the air of despair wafting off him. Ever since he had returned from Texas and his grandmother's funeral nearly three weeks ago, she had noticed that he wasn't his same lively self. He was quiet and despondent. At first, she figured that was normal. After all, he had just lost his last living grandparent. That surely was reason enough to be down in the dumps, even depressed. But she was beginning to think there was more to Nick's mood than that alone.

Slowly, she walked over to him. She wasn't sure if he had heard her and she didn't want to startle him so bending over, she gently laid her hand upon his shoulder.

When he turned his head to meet her gaze, she asked, "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, sure," he responded monotonously before turning away to stare at the stars again.

A hesitant moment passed before Catherine checked that the curb wasn't too dirty then took a seat beside Nick.

She, too, then directed her eyes toward the sky before finally stating, "No, you're not."

Feeling his eyes upon her, she turned to meet his gaze.

"I can't fool you, can I?"

"No, you can't. I'm paid to notice these things."

When his lips quirked into a sad grin, she responded with one of her own.

They both turned back to their stargazing but not before Catherine noticed the postcard in Nick's hands.

After a long moment of silence, she quietly uttered, "I see you have that postcard again."

"Yeah."

"How many times have you read it already?"

"I don't know. Maybe a dozen or so."

Another long pause hung in the air.

"Do you miss them?" Nick asked while still looking skyward.

"Grissom and Sara? Oh, yeah. Every day."

"Even Sara?" he questioned with a hint of disbelief in his Texas drawl.

Taken back with the subtle implication of Nick's tone, Catherine turned to look at him. When he met her gaze, she replied, "Yes, even Sara. Why would you even ask such a thing?"

"I don't know," Nick responded with a shrug. "Just seemed like you two were always butting heads."

"Yeah, I suppose, we were. Guess we were both a little headstrong, never wanting to back down. But I admired her for that. When she believed in something, she fought for it tooth and nail, never gave up. No matter how much I may have disagreed with her sometimes, I had to respect her for that."

"Yeah, she was a feisty one," Nick replied with a chuckle. "After…you know, Natalie…it was hard to see her so broken."

"I don't think any of us, even Grissom, realized how bad it was."

"But we should have. We were her friends and we didn't even see how badly she was hurting." His sigh was deep and sorrowful. "After Sara left, I felt guilty. I was supposed to be one of her best friends and I wasn't there for her. So I tried to be there for Warrick and, well, that didn't work out so well and then Grissom left. I'm just so tired of everything changing. Seems everyone has left and I'm still stuck here."

"Hey, I'm still here!" Catherine protested.

"Thank goodness," Nick replied putting his arm her shoulders. "I don't think I could handle Greg on my own," he joked.

Their shared laughter lightened their mood for a moment before the heavy cloak of melancholy settled back around them. Catherine leaned over resting her head on Nick's shoulder.

"Seriously," Nick continued, "I like Ray and Riley but it's just not the same. We were like a family, you, me, Warrick, Sara and Greg and even Grissom. We went through so much together."

"We sure did."

A couple minutes passed as they each remembered both the good times and the bad.

A single, lone tear slipped down Catherine's cheek.

"I miss him so much," Catherine whispered.

Nick was fairly certain he knew who the 'him' was that Catherine was referring to but he had to be sure.

"Warrick?" he questioned softly.

A lump lodged in his throat when he heard her sniffle and then felt her head nod against his shoulder.

"That's understandable," he replied. "You two had a special relationship."

"Yes, we did." Then realizing what Nick had said, she pulled away from him. "What? Wait….how…uh?"

"Relax, Cath," he assured her as he pulled her back into his side. "He never said anything. It was just something that I picked up on after years of observing you two together. Some people just have a special connection. You and Warrick had it. Sara and Grissom certainly do. I think even Greg has it with Tammie. You are all so lucky to find someone like that. I'm still waiting."

"You will, Nick. Someday, you'll just be going around your daily business and there she will be."

"Yeah, well, I'm a little tired of waiting. All my sisters are married with families of their own. Same with all my friends from high school and college. Heck, some of them are even on to second marriages already." He was quiet for a moment as he contemplated his life a bit more. "You know what hit me when I was flying back from my grandma's funeral?"

"What's that?"

"I just moved up a generation. When my grandma died, that was it. There's no longer two generations ahead of me. Now, it's just my parents. They're now the older generation – the patriarch and the matriarch. They should be able to sit back, relax and just enjoy retirement and the grandkids. And since I'm the only boy in the family....I don't know. It just feels like I have more responsibility in the family now. You know what I mean? Like I have to be the strong one now ; the pillar; the one that everyone else can turn to in a crisis. I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of responsibility. Half the time I still feel like some snot-nosed kid fresh out of college who doesn't have a clue about how the real world works."

"Can I let you in on a secret, Nicky?"

"Sure."

"That's how I feel, too."

"Really? You?" he exclaimed disbelievingly. "You always seem so together!"

"Nah, it's just a front."

"You sure had me fooled."

"Darn! I shouldn't have said anything. I probably could've fooled for a little while longer."

Their shared laughter helped to lighten the mood temporarily.

Another minute or two passed before with a deep sigh, Catherine clapped Nick on the knee then stood up stretching. "As much as I would love to continue to contemplate the universe with you, we have a dead body waiting for us."

"Great," was his sarcastic response as he also rose from the curb.

Catherine entered the lab while Nick paused on the door's threshold looking back for one last glimpse of the North Star and one more glance at the moon. Feeling a bit silly, he made a wish. He wished that Sara and Grissom would look up some night, see the stars and the moon and think of him like he had thought of them this night. And that somewhere up there in the heavens above, Warrick was watching over all of them, wherever they may be in this vast world.

TBC

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I'd love to hear what you think about this chapter and story so any reviews are greatly appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters. They're all property of Alliance Atlantis, CBS Paramount and Anthony Zuiker.

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The tall, sharp-nosed man strode down the halls of the lab as if he owned it, as if he was the be all and end all of the Las Vegas crime lab. He certainly wouldn't disagree with that assumption should someone make it. This was _his _lab now. Not even Grissom had a say in it anymore. A pleased smirk settled upon his thin lips.

As he turned the corner, a pack of gossiping lab techs at the other end of the hall scurried like rats in a maze quickly dispersing to their respective labs. A Cheshire-cat grin replaced the smirk, pleased with the respect his presence in the lab commanded. That was until he realized that one of those lab rats was not daunted. Rather, the annoying little man was patiently waiting for him.

"Hodges," he greeted the eager lab rat hoping to discourage him with the tone of dismissal that heavily laced his words.

However, it had absolutely no affect at all on the lab tech. If anything, Hodges' chest just seemed to puff up even more with self-importance.

"Conrad," Hodges eagerly greeted the undersheriff completely ignorant of Ecklie's disdain. "It's so wonderful to see you again. It really has been a long time since we've had a chance to chat."

"Yes, a long time," Ecklie agreed sarcastically. Unfortunately, not long enough.

As Ecklie continued down the hall, Hodges fell into step beside him.

A quick glance to his left, really confirmed Ecklie's worst fear that he had not shaken the technician.

"Did you want something, Hodges?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I thought we could have a chat like the good, old days," Hodges replied. "You know, like before you were undersheriff and you weren't so inundated with pettily concerns." Hodges eyes suddenly widened in shock as if he had just realized he had insulted the very man he was trying to impress. He quickly rushed to smooth over his faux pas. "Not to say that you aren't busy with important business. Very important I'm sure. It's just…." He paused and looked around as if checking for listening ears. "Well, I'm sure as undersheriff you're even more so on the receiving end of petty complaints and whining. But what I had really wanted to discuss with you was this article I recently read about how to improve morale…."

With a barely concealed roll of his eyes, Ecklie picked up his pace hoping to shake his undesired tail. He had had enough already today, in fact, this whole week. He was catching hell from all corners. Riley Adams had suddenly up and quit earlier in the week bestowing a blistering review of the lab as part of her exit interview and leaving a short-handed nightshift team even shorter-handed. A serial rapist was on the loose with the media dogging his every step wondering what he's doing to catch the bad guy as if it was his personal responsibility. Then, to top it all off, earlier today, the sheriff had lectured him because the employees weren't keeping up with their mandatory training. Yet another thing he could thank Riley for as he was sure that it was her review that had the sheriff all hot and bothered, insisting that every CSI and lab employee attend sensitivity training. Sensitivity training, his ass! There was too much of this two-bit molly-coddling as it was. He could only imagine the stir that announcement was going to cause in the lab.

That's why he wanted to get in, get this damn announcement posted on the employee bulletin board and get out again before the night shift made their appearance. He knew that a confrontation with Catherine over this was inevitable. She was already spitting fire about being understaffed and overworked. Once she found out about these mandatory training sessions and how her people were going to have to put in even more hours just to attend, she was going to hit the roof and he wanted to be nowhere in sight when that happened. At least if she caught him at the end of her shift after she had a few hours to cool off, he might stand a chance of getting through that conversation alive.

"…so I was thinking the way to get around …"

Ecklie realized that Hodges was still blathering on and he hadn't heard a word uttered. He didn't know whether to loathe or encourage the trace technician. On one hand, Hodges kept him well-informed of the lab gossip that he as part of management was usually not privy to. Through Hodges, he knew who was cheating on hours, who was bad-mouthing him, and who was breaking the rules. On the other hand, Hodges had to be the most annoying person in the world. If he wasn't such an excellent little informant, he would've told Hodges off ages ago. Even he could only take so much brown-nosing.

"…the perfect solution. So what do you think, Conrad?"

And today, he was perfectly irritating.

"Don't you have some work to do, Hodges? If not, I'm sure we can find some field work for you to do."

Ecklie's abrupt interruption threw Hodges off-kilter as he spluttered, "Oh, uh, well, the gas spectrometer is analyzing the paint chip from Nick's case and the …."

"Why don't you go check on that? I'm sure Nick needs the results as soon as possible."

At last, Hodges seemed to take the blatant hint. With a sputter of confusion, a miffed Hodges turned on his heel and headed back to his lab with his tail firmly tucked between his legs.

With a shake of his head and a grunt, Ecklie continued on his way. Turning another corner, he walked past the break room before coming to a halt before the employee bulletin board. Rearranging a couple items, he tacked the newest fluorescent green announcement squarely in the middle of the board where it would catch everyone's attention.

With a quick cursory glance over the rest of the board, he was about to turn away when he noticed something different in the upper left-hand corner which over the past few months had become a to the night shift's former supervisor and co-worker. When they had first started tacking those dumb postcards up, he had been stunned and quite frankly, more than a little ticked off. Even after the man had left the lab, he still had to live in Grissom's shadow. He had decided right then and there that he wasn't going to put up with that crap anymore. He had had enough when Grissom was there. And don't even get him started about Sidle. He had promptly snatched that first postcard off the bulletin board and had just about ripped it up when his conscious kicked in. Instead, he dropped it on Catherine's desk and curtly informed her that the board was strictly for employee announcements only. That was just one of the many times he had had to deal with Catherine's fiery temper since she took over the supervisor position. They had gone back and forth on the matter until finally he gave up arguing his point. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that he never actually given his permission.

He quickly counted up the colorful pieces of cardboard and came up with six. The last time he had walked past, he was pretty positive there had been only five and even though he could care less when one arrived – or at least he kept telling himself that – he usually knew as the lab would be abuzz for days afterwards. Even if he didn't hear it in his general wanderings of the lab, he could always count on Hodges to make a point of letting him know.

Glancing down the hallway first one way, then the other – he didn't want anyone to know that he, too, was reading Grissom and Sara's travel memoirs – he pulled down the postcard that seemed unfamiliar. An aerial shot of a stone wall undulating through a valley and over a hill along with the proclamation "The Great Wall of China" graced the front.

He flipped the card over and noted the postmark. May 6, 2010. Taking into consideration that it came all the way from China, it probably arrived a week or two after that – somewhere around the fifteenth to twentieth. That would explain why he hadn't heard about it. He had been at a conference in Philadelphia the entire week of the seventeenth.

The chicken scratch immediately clued him in that it wasn't written by Grissom but rather by his ….. companion. Immediately his blood began to boil. He would never, _never _forgive those two for putting him into the embarrassing position he found himself in when their relationship became public knowledge. Not only had he caught hell from his superiors – the lab director, Undersheriff McKeen – for allowing such a blatant disregard of the rules to occur under his nose, but he also couldn't do much about it afterwards. As a result of her desert ordeal, Sara had become a media darling. So much so that he knew if he tried to fire either Grissom or Sara or both as he should have done under normal circumstances and the media caught wind of it, the department would be caught in a public relations nightmare.

Unconsciously, his hand tightened into a clenched first until a sharp stabbing pain caused it to fly open. A thumbtack flew from his hand and landed on the floor with a crisp metallic ping as Ecklie watched a single drop of blood appear in the palm of his hand. Son of a …! Even halfway around the world, they were bringing him nothing but misery and pain.

Bringing his palm to his mouth, he sucked at the blood droplet and bent to pick up the thumbtack, then began reading.

_Hey gang,_

_Sorry for not keeping in better touch these last few months but Gris was rushed to complete his research before the grant money ran out and I had been busy with the panda rescue organization. We left the research station a couple weeks ago. We spent nearly a week in and around Beijing then went further north for a while. We recently heard that last year's Costa Rican study will be starting up again in another 3 months and we've agreed to assist again so we are heading back west in a couple months. Until then, we're going to spend some time traveling taking in places we've always wanted to see. Tomorrow, we're taking a train into India. From there we plan on heading to Europe and maybe even northern Africa before heading back to Costa Rica. Keep sending those e-mails. We're reading them and enjoying them even if we don't always respond._

_Sara_

Well, those two sure were getting around, traipsing all over the world. South America. Australia. Asia. Now India , Europe and possibly even Africa. About the only place those two hadn't already been or weren't going to be in the next few months was Antarctica, although he wouldn't put it past them if they didn't head down there yet, too. They were such geeks. They'd probably end up signing on to study some dumb ice beetle down there or something stupid like that.

But beneath the disdain and irritation, ran a vein of something else. Something that if Ecklie had to put a name to it, shockingly, he'd have to call it….jealousy.

How the hell had this all come to pass? He just didn't understand that.

When he had started at the lab nearly two decades ago, he was newly married to his college sweetheart, a baby on the way and everywhere he went, he was recognized as the star basketball center for the UNLV Rebels. He got along great with his colleagues, spent many a night out at the bars with his friends and co-workers and it wasn't long before he had his first promotion.

Grissom, on the other hand, was none of those. Sure, he had a nationally renowned reputation in the scientific community but no one knew him walking down the streets. He was the geeky science boy who never had a girlfriend, who worked all hours of the day and night and could count his number of friends on a single hand.

Now, here he was. Divorced, kids barely spoke to him, receiving respect only because his title demanded it. And there was Grissom. Traipsing around the world with some hot chic – yeah, he had to admit Sidle was pretty hot even if she was pricklier than a cactus and had a temper quicker than a firecracker – at his side and able to get access to almost any research project in the world. People here at the lab still worshipped him and the phrase 'Grissom would have' could be heard nearly any day of the week.

He just couldn't catch a break. No matter what he did, Grissom won. He always won.

With a frustrated growl, Ecklie slammed the postcard back up on the bulletin board and jabbed the thumbtack back in place with enough force to shake the bulletin board.

Spinning around, he stomped down the hall with furrowed brows and a malicious glint in his eye.

When Hodges saw Ecklie returning, he quickly rejoined him in the hall.

"Conrad, if you want to discuss those ideas….."

"Go to hell, Hodges!" he barked as he continued on his way. Maybe the lab rat didn't deserve it, but at least he felt better!

TBC

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A/N: Wow. I shocked myself by getting this out today. Sorry for the terribly long delay but I found this last season of CSI rather uninspiring. The last 3 or 4 summers, I have re-watched the entire series from the start so I'm doing that again. I started watching Season 1 earlier this week and have fallen in love with both CSI and GSR all over again so now the inspiration is flowing once again. Hopefully I can find the time to turn that inspiration into actual writing. Thanks for hanging in there. I would love to hear what you think so please R&R.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters. They're all property of Alliance Atlantis, CBS Paramount and Anthony Zuiker.

A/N: The inspirations for this chapter came from all over the place starting with a certain phrase I had written in the previous chapter about GSR seeing all the continents, to the episode 6x04 Shooting Stars, to my desire to visit the Giza Plateau some day to the news that Marg is planning on leaving after this next season. It also was written over several weeks snatching a few minutes here and there at work. So my hope is that this actually is coherent and makes sense!

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"Night, Cath!"

Catherine lifted her eyes from the paperwork spread out before her to find Greg standing in the doorway of her office.

"Good night, Greg," she returned with a smile.

With a jaunty flick of his finger, Greg spun on his heel and was headed out.

"Greg?"

She grinned as she watched Greg back-pedaling into view again.

"Yeah, boss?"

"You did good on the Matheson case. Really, really good." With a small shrug and a grin, she praised him. "You impressed me. Keep it up and you'll be taking my job away!"

"Wow! Really?"

"Yeah, really." They just grinned at each other for a second before Cath warned, "Just wait a few years, yet, OK? I'm not quite ready to retire yet."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, no problemo!" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the office door. "Well, I gotta go. Hot date!"

As he bounced out of view, she couldn't help but be reminded of the old Greg. The DNA-tech Greg – the one who spiked his hair, blasted the lab with loud, obnoxious music, and basically had just irritated the hell out of Gil. Although he had matured greatly over the last few years, it was refreshing to see Greg's quirky side still peek through occasionally.

With a huff, she turned her attention back to the stacks of paperwork cluttering her desktop. Now she understood why Gil used to get so grouchy when dealing with the endless streams of reports and reviews and requisition forms and just plain pointless paperwork.

Well, moaning and groaning wasn't going to get it done. So she signed off on the report she had just finished reviewing, flipped the folder closed and dropped it on the Completed pile.

The swirling air currents of the folder hitting the stack stirred the other papers lying scattered across her desk and as they resettled in new random patterns, a corner of a sand-colored picture peeped out from below.

"Ah-ha!" she exclaimed softly. She was wondering where it had disappeared. She remembered seeing it about a week ago when it had first arrived but between the latest crime streak to hit Sin City and the piles of paper that had built up on her desk, it had gotten lost in the shuffle.

She plucked the postcard from its hiding spot.

Gazing at the picture of the Great Pyramids of Egypt set against a Saharan desert backdrop, she couldn't help but recall the time when Gil had just taken off walking across Nevada's own desert following evidence, waxing poetic about someday seeing those same pyramids for himself.

Now, if _she _had discovered the drag marks, she would've first gone back, gathered a bottle or two of water and let others know where she was headed. She might've even sent a subordinate out to chase the evidence trail rather than tracking across the hot arid desert herself.

But that wasn't Grissom. It never had been and she imagined it never would be. He tended to get lost in whatever evidence, experiment or other thought process had most recently captured his interest often to the point of forgetting the people around him. It had made him a great criminalist and even a great scholar but also it made him a rather lousy social creature.

Yet, looking back at the afternoon now, she realized that was one of the first times she noticed that something was just a little bit different about her old friend. That he was changing, evolving, sharing. His talk of dreams and wanting to see the pyramids was rather unexpected.

A few weeks later when he started talking about his father's death, she was both pleasantly surprised and saddened. For him to share such an obviously personal and painful memory made her feel trusted but also to wonder what had brought on such a change. She had known him for maybe about ten years at that time and she had never known anything behind the circumstances of his father's passing. She knew his father was no longer living. She had gathered that much from various remarks made over the course of working together for years, day in and day out – or in their case, night in and night out. But he had never before talked about it openly so she had never known the circumstances behind the story. She had just assumed that Gil was older, most likely already working, when his father had passed away. When she found out that he had only been nine years old at the time, many pieces of Grissom's personality had fallen into place.

Coming back to the present, she flipped the postcard over and had to smirk at the text, or rather, lack thereof. No greeting. No "hi", "hello" or even "hey". No "how are you" or even "we're doing fine." Nothing. Nada. Simply the lab's address to the attention of the night shift and a quote. There wasn't even a signature though that was hardly a necessity for the elegant script on the postcard was both familiar and unmistakable.

The quote scrawled across the card said so little and yet revealed so much about the man who had reiterated the words.

"_You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream." - C.S. Lewis_

For those who didn't know Grissom, they could take that at face value. He was an older gentleman who suddenly changed careers, moved away and got married. One would think those were the new goals, the new dreams.

But she knew there was so much more to this than just the simple surface changes. Gil was a creature of habit. For years, he had lived a solitary life carefully keeping everyone out, not letting anyone too close. She never knew why he was like that. Was it some lingering abandonment felt by a nine-year-old child who suddenly and unexpectedly lost his father? Was it the peculiarity of being the child of a deaf mother? Or was it the isolation of being a prodigy who was further advanced than his contemporaries and shared few interests with them? Or had he once been young, in love and irreparably betrayed by some thoughtless, unappreciative hussy?

Whatever the reason, she knew those words revealed so much more than Gil probably ever intended. For in order to set those new goals and dream that new dream, Gil had to accept change and risk, to grow emotionally and socially. He had to let Sara in, to open himself up, to allow himself to become attached, to allow himself to possibly be hurt but also to possibly be loved as he deserved to be loved and appreciated. And somehow that made this postcard seem so much more personal than any of the others with their breezy chit-chat.

And maybe that's the reason she hadn't posted it yet. It felt too personal. Too personal for Grissom, revealing too much about the man behind the mask. Too personal for her, bringing back cherished memories of their close friendship.

As she laid the postcard off to the side, she felt a twinge of guilt for not sharing this latest treasure with her team. She'd post it in another day or two….maybe. But for now, it was hitting a little too close to home.

And it was starting to make her question herself, her direction, her goals and dreams. If Gil was never too old to change, then what's to say that she isn't either? Maybe it was time to think about a life beyond this job, this career, this lab. Maybe it was time to set a new goal. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to dream a new dream.

TBC

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Thanks for taking the time to read my little story!


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